"Yes," she answered quietly. "I ought to tell you how many tears you could wipe away with it, how much suffering you could soften, how many young lives you could save from misery and shame, how many of life's sunsets you could have turned from darkness into the glory of quiet joy; and yet, somehow, I can find nothing in my heart to say except that I've been living in a fairyland of beauty and enchantment. What curious contradictions these hearts of ours lead us into sometimes--don't they?" Nan looked up quickly and repeated his question in cynical tones. "Yes, don't they?" "I know that I ought to condemn this appalling extravagance, and I find myself enjoying it." Both were silent for a long while and then they began to talk in low tones of the life they had lived as boy and girl in the old South, and forgot the flight of time. CHAPTER XIX THE LAST ILLUSION As the moment drew nearer for the doctor to make known his presence to Bivens his heart began to fail. With an effort he took fresh courage. "Of course I'll succeed!" he exclaimed. "There's no such thing as defeat for him who refuses to acknowledge it." As he watched the magnificent ball his eyes grew dim at the thought of the social tragedy which it symbolized, of his own poverty and of the deeper wretchedness of scores to whom he had been trying to minister. He was fighting to keep his courage up, but the longer he watched the barbaric, sensual display of wealth sweeping before him, the deeper his spirit sank. The butler touched his arm and he turned with a sudden start, a look of anguish on his rugged face. "Mr. Bivens will be pleased to see you in the little library, sir, if you will come at once!" The man bowed with stately deference. He followed the servant with quick firm step, a hundred happy ideas floating through his mind. "Of course, it's all right. My fears were absurd!" he mused. "My instinct was right. He will be pleased to see me. He's in a good humour with all the world to-night." When the doctor was ushered into the library, Bivens, who was awaiting him alone, sprang to his feet with a look of blank amazement, and then a smile began to play about his hard mouth. He thrust his delicate hands into his pockets and deliberately looked the doctor's big figure over from head to foot as he approached with embarrassment. "My servant announced that a gentleman wished to speak to me a moment. Will you be good enough to tell me what you are doing in this house to-night?" The doctor paused and hesitated, his face scarlet from the deliberate insult. "I must really ask your pardon, Mr. Bivens, for my apparent intrusion. It is only apparent. I came with my daughter." "Your daughter?" "She sang to-night on your programme." "Oh, I see, with the other hired singers; well, what do you want?" "Only a few minutes of your time on a matter of grave importance." "I don't care to discuss business here to-night, Woodman," Bivens broke in abruptly. "Come to my office."